The End
by chubbynlite
Summary: A post-apocalyptic story that takes place in Woodcrest.


For as long as Huey could remember, he was always plotting on the day the world would end. As a kid, it felt like an inevitable. He spent his days just wondering when the world would end, how it would end. As he grew up, he obviously discovered that the world ending while he was alive was most likely not going to happen.

It was such an integral part of pop culture. Some viral infection causing people to come back to life and eat living humans. Aliens taking over the planet. Some insane natural disaster. If someone could think of it, it was in a TV show, a book, a game… Everything. The very thought of the end of the world was for the sole purpose of entertainment.

And because of this, it slowly faded into the back of his mind as he got older.

Logically speaking, why wouldn't it? If he had spent the last ten years obsessing over the world ending he would've been a nutcase. Instead of worrying about prepping food and protecting the house, he was worried about girls and grades. He wasn't complaining, worrying about girls and grades had gotten him a girlfriend and into a good school.

It wasn't until shit hit the fan where he wished he had been a little more prepared for everything that was about to happen.

* * *

"Babe?" a soft voice called from the front door.

"In my room," Huey replied. He was sitting at his desk, trying to finish up the last bit of the essay he had due in a few hours. He had left the door unlocked, knowing that she'd come over after she got out of classes.

He heard her walk through his small apartment and make her way to his room. "I told you you'd procrastinate till the last minute," she joked around, setting her bag down and plopping down on his bed.

"I'm done, just editing," Huey mumbled. It was a lie but he didn't have to tell her that.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say _Huey_," she propped her head up on her hand as she rolled on her side. "You won't guess what shit happened to me today!"

"What happened today, _Breanna_," Huey mocked. He spun around in his chair to finally turn around to look at her.

"Some fucking drunk scratched me while I was waiting for the bus. He was stumbling around the parking lot and I was just praying that the bus would get here before he stumbled over in our direction."

"That's crazy, are you okay?" Huey asked, immediately getting up to get the small first aid kit he kept in his bathroom. Once he came back with it he asked to see the scratches.

"It really hurts. After he scratched me some guy shoved him on the ground and we all hurried on the bus." She sat up all the way and gave Huey her arm, exposing the four scratches that were on her forearm.

"Shit," Huey said, holding her arm in his hand and looking at it closely. He felt he stomach drop a little but dismissed it as guilt that he wasn't there to protect her. "This just happened?"

Breanna nodded her head, looking at the scratches herself. Despite it just happening no longer than twenty minutes ago, the marks already looked as if they were infected. On top of them looking infected, there was deep bruising like it had been awhile since the accident had happened.

"It looks… infected." Huey mumbled. He grabbed a cotton ball and soaked it in hydrogen peroxide. As he cleaned her scratches as gently but thoroughly as possible, he listened to her ramble on about classes and assignments. He couldn't help but be fixated on the fact that a few scratches barely an hour old looked as though they were infected. He took out some first-aid cream and lathered it on with a q-tip. "We should get you to the hospital."

"Hospital? Are you crazy? His fingernails were filthy, that's all. I'll make sure I keep it clean and keep cream on it." Breanna shook her head. Once she saw the look on Huey's face, she sighed, "If it gets even remotely worse I'll go to the hospital, okay?"

"Alright," Huey nodded. He wrapped her scratches in bandages and closed up the first aid kit.

"Stop worrying, go work on that paper. I know you're not just editing it," she laughed, her big smile immediately calming Huey down. She took the first aid kit from him and shooed him back to his desk. Of course, he listened to her.

It took a while, but he stopped worrying about the scratches and got rid of the annoying ball of anxiety that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach. Once that was out the way, he was tapping away at his keyboard, finishing his essay.

Time had gotten the best of him, but an hour before the essay was due, he finished. He read it over and then turned it in. He was surprised to find out that Breanna was still here, considering she had so much work she had to do. Normally, he'd put a break on whatever work he was doing to spend time with her but he couldn't do that when he had waited so long to finish it in the first place.

He walked out his room to find Breanna on the couch, looking like she was sick. "Breanna?"

When she didn't move and react even slightly, he ran over to her. Her skin looked clammy and she looked like she was barely breathing. "Breanna!" He shouted, wrapping his arms around her and trying to wake her up. She moaned a little and opened her eyes.

"Yeah?" she wiped the crust that was in the corner of her eyes and sat up slowly, feeling like she had just finished an extreme workout.

"You look sick. We need to get you to the hospital, now…" Huey trailed off, trying to get her up on her feet. That niggling feeling in his stomach was back again and tenfold. Nothing was sitting right with him.

"Huey, I'm fine. I just need to eat and shower. Relax." Breanna rolled her eyes and forced herself to stand up on her own. It hurt more than she had ever hurt before but momma didn't raise no punk. "What you got in the fridge?"

Huey was right behind her as soon as she stood, ushering her into the bathroom. "Take a shower. I'll make you something to eat. If you don't feel better by the morning I'm taking you to the ER whether you like it or not."

"Fine, bossy," she mumbled, letting herself be ushered into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and Huey walked away to make something quick for the both of them to eat.

He didn't have much, considering he'd just paid rent. He was planning on making his food stretch for another week or two until he got paid. He put some rice in the rice cooker and pulled out some frozen vegetables and the leftover rotisserie chicken he had in the fridge. Ten minutes went by, then twenty.

By then, the rice was done. He waited a little bit, dished up their plates, waited a little bit more. It wasn't until forty minutes passed and Breanna still hadn't come out that he decided to go check and make sure she was okay. She took long showers but not when she knew they were about to eat. He knocked once before opening the door.

The room was hot and steamy, shower still running. "Bre?" Huey called, crossing the bathroom to grab the curtain and peak slowly. The water sounded constant, like her body wasn't moving. When he pulled the shower curtain back, he saw that she was on the floor of the shower, blood pooling out her mouth and swirling into the water.

"What the fuck," Huey dropped to his knees on the side of the tub, turning off the water and lifting his girlfriend up to prop her back against the tub. He fumbled around his pockets to try his phone so he could call 911. Once he realized that it was in his room he bolted up and ran into his room, grabbing his phone from his desk. He hadn't wanted to leave Breanna's side, especially since it looked like she wasn't breathing.

When did she even fall? He hadn't heard a thump or any loud noise. Could he have prevented this from happening?

He glance at his phone, glancing at the many missed calls that he had on his front screen. Ten from Riley, twenty from Granddad. What the hell was going on? Did someone get hurt?

Right as he was about to hit 911, he got a text from Riley.

_Bro hit me back pls. gotta know if u good _

_Pls hit me back gdad worried we at home _

"What the fuck?" Huey mumbled to himself. He'd call Riley back as soon as he called the ambulance. That ball of anxiety was roiling in his stomach, getting bigger and bigger, waiting for something to happen and catch him off guard.

He felt it before he heard it, the low, guttural growling that sent chills up his spine. He turned slowly, knowing it could only be one person. Breanna stood there, growling at him. Her naked body dripping water. It was her but he knew it wasn't really her.

"Bre? Breanna?" he said shakily, stepping back as her body made a step towards him. "I'm… about to call the ambulance. I should've made you go to the hospital earlier."

That guttural growling got louder, her head tilted in a sickly, unnatural way, and then she was running towards him. Huey's breath hitched as he jumped onto his bed and slid off of the opposite side. This felt unreal. Was this related to that scratch that she had earlier? Whoever, whatever… it wasn't Breanna that was standing in front of him.

Was he going to have to kill her? He wasn't going to be able to get away with that. There was no way in hell. He wouldn't be able to explain that to a cop or judge on the fucking planet. He ran out of the room, trying to think as fast as humanly possible considering she was chasing him like he was prey. Maybe he could trap her in the closet? Then he could try and figure out what was going on? Deep down, he knew though. He just couldn't acknowledge the fact that he was going to have to kill his girlfriend.

He'd have to think fast if he was going to trap her in the closet. He dashed to the closet door, swung it open and stood right in the doorway. He'd wait until she darted to him and he'd have to duck and slam the door shut before she could turn around. The nervousness was sweeping. He hadn't done any extra acrobatic shit since he was a kid. If he messed up he was definitely going to die.

Just as he expected, Breanna ran towards him and once she was close enough she pounced. Huey took the moment to duck, letting her fall into the closet before he jumped back up and turned the slam the door shut with as much force as he could muster. The sickening crunch that he heard as he forced the door shut made him nauseous. It had to have been her leg or something. Despite the sickening crunch, there was no cry or shout of pain. Just the same frenzied growling that had been going on since that moment in the bedroom.

Huey felt tears sliding down his cheeks. What was going on? Why was this happening?

Breanna started thumping against the door, trying to get out knowing that there was something warm on the other side. Huey frantically searched for something to shove under the door to use as a stopper. His best bet was a shoe. After that was in place, he pushed over the armchair to cover the door. He had to hope that whatever Breanna was now wasn't smart enough to figure to turn the doorknob to open it.

He tried to tune out the continuous thumping and shakily walked over to the couch to turn on the tv. There had to be something going on and if it was, hopefully the news was covering it. He flipped to the channel before searching on the floor for his dropped phone. Once he found it, he immediately called Riley, who picked up immediately.

"Nigga! Are you good? You seen the shit that's happening? This some World War Z shit" Riley shouted, exasperated. In the background Huey could hear his granddad asking if he was okay.

Huey wiped his face, despite the fact that Riley couldn't see him crying. He nodded slowly, trying to reassure himself that he was good, "I'm good. Bre… Bre attacked me but I'm good."

"Bro you gotta get home before shit gets crazy. Before it gets dark. It's still pretty normal over here, is it crazy by you?" Riley asked, talking fast.

Huey's mind was racing a mile a minute. Home. He had to go home. He flipped threw the news channels quickly, nothing but the normal stuff going on as of right now. This must've been the start of it. Maybe the news wasn't covering it but without a doubt it was all over social media right now.

He walked over to the window, peeking out carefully. Nothing was too out of place, but there was multiple people rushing to cars with suitcases. They must have figured out what was going on. He only had a little while to get back home before things got too crazy. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in the city and not be able to get home. At least now, he could pack his stuff and drive over. Who's to say he would be able to do that.

"Okay. I'll pack some stuff and head home." Huey said quickly. Riley told him to be safe and they hung up. Immediately, Huey was rushing around his house. He grabbed the 3 duffel bags he had and the 2 backpacks and went to filling them with everything he could think of. He wasn't too worried since he would be going home but he wanted to grab anything of value and the basics.

Clothes, toilet paper, napkins, the food that he had left in the kitchen. Everything was kicking back in from his childhood. He had to prioritize efficiently. Wallet, laptop, chargers. First aid kit. All the bottled water he could manage to carry.

He couldn't take everything but he had to carry as much as possible. Once he got in his car he wasn't getting out until he was in front of his house. He tossed some of the knives he had in his kitchen into a bag, grabbed the metal baseball bat he kept in his room, and grabbed all his stuff so that he could leave.

Right before heading out, he stopped in front of the closet door that Breanna was in. The thumping had continued but slowed down. He shook his head and held back the tears. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Bre. I'll come back if I can…"

He resituated his bags and left, making sure to lock the door behind him. For all he knew, he'd never come back to his apartment, but just in case. He headed down the steps and out the front door of the building, practically running to his car. Now that he was outside, he could see that it was definitely more hectic than it was before, but nothing comparable to Breanna. Mostly just people packing up their cars. Huey frantically threw all his stuff into the back seat before getting into the driver's seat and pulling off in the direction of his home.

He was only thirty minutes away, and even though he wasn't particularly religious, he prayed that he got there safely.


End file.
